I Could Get Used To This
by Carly-M
Summary: Oliver offers Felicity a place to stay while she looks for a new apartment.
1. Chapter 1

**Notes:** Set not long after episode 2.14 but Oliver & Sara never hooked up and Slade hasn't made himself known yet.

* * *

Felicity propelled her fists up in a self-defence pose, nearly leaping out of her desk chair when a scrunched up ball of paper hit the middle of her forehead. Tearing her eyes away from the computer she was met with the sight of two grown-ass men attempting not to giggle. "Real smooth, guys," she said, trying to compose herself. "Did I miss the memo about this new way of greeting co-workers?"

"No, but it's nice to see our training's come in handy," Diggle replied in amusement as she abruptly lowered her hands.

Oliver nodded solemnly. "The office supplies _were_ looking pretty shifty."

"Hey, nuh-uh, you two don't get to sass me right now without explaining why you're trying to slam dunk my face," Felicity protested, pointing between her two friends.

"In all fairness we did call your name about five times before reinforcements were needed," said Oliver. "Turns out I just have really good aim," he added innocently.

Picking up the paper from her desk she tossed it in Oliver's direction, watching as it veered right and bounced off Diggle's shoe. "And I couldn't hit a target if it were dancing naked in front of me," she muttered, before wincing slightly. "Not that anyone should be doing that in the office… although that's probably one memo I _wouldn't_ miss…" She heard the men cough and snapped back to attention. "Sorry, what were you guys going to ask me?"

"We're heading out for lunch," said Diggle. "Did you want to join us?"

"Oh God yes, I'm starving." Felicity stood to gather a few items into her purse, smiling when Oliver moved around to pick up her coat and hold it out for her. "I'll need to bring my tablet with me, though," she said, slipping her arms into the sleeves of the blue pea coat. "I've got some stuff to do."

"QC stuff or 'other' work stuff?" Oliver frowned, stepping back as she did up her buttons. "I thought we were up to date with both?"

"Neither," she replied as they moved towards Diggle and headed for the elevator. "It's more like _me_ stuff, in the sense that I _may_ have run into a slight problem and I'm operating on about zero sleep and ten cups of coffee trying to fix it."

The two men shared a look of concern as the elevator doors opened and they all shuffled inside. "What kind of problem?" they asked in unison.

"Wow, your jaws just clenched in perfect synchronization too," Felicity said in awe.

"_Fe-li-city_," Oliver exhaled slowly. "What problem?"

"It's OK, I'm fine, no one's after me," she reassured them, biting her bottom lip. "It's just the small fact that as of tomorrow I'll be kicked out of my apartment and technically I'll be homeless." Felicity gave them a sheepish grin. "Good thing I know of some people who can lift heavy boxes, huh?"

* * *

"What about this one?" Felicity passed her tablet across the table for Oliver and Diggle to look at while she took a bite of her sushi. "Do you think by 'charming size' they actually mean 'would probably be suited for a tiny mouse-like person'?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow as he scrolled through the few available pictures of the apartment. "I'm pretty sure there might already be mice living in there."

"OK, well then click on the other tab. That complex isn't too bad, right?"

The men tried not to flinch. "Felicity we've infiltrated seedy criminal hideouts that look better than this," said Diggle.

"Yeah, but throw in a nice lamp, some cushions…" she trailed off at their sceptical looks, "… you'll have yourself a really chic drug den. All right I get it, this place is bad. But as last minute rental plans go, I don't have many options."

"I'd suggest my place as a short-term solution," said Diggle, manoeuvring food onto his chopsticks, "but Lyla's there a lot these days and it might get a bit… awkward."

Felicity smiled at his bashfulness. "Thanks anyway, Digg. I appreciate the offer but you definitely don't need me as the third wheel on your love machine," she teased, chuckling as he shook his head at her.

Oliver slid the tablet back to the blonde, clearing his throat. "Come and stay with me for a while," he casually threw out as he picked up a steamed dumpling. "It's partially my fault you're in this situation in the first place." He heard a noise and quickly poured more water for Felicity who started to choke on some rice.

"What are you talking about?" she rasped, gulping down a mouthful of her drink. "How on earth is it your fault that I forgot my lease was up?"

"Because I have you working not one but two very demanding jobs that don't leave a lot of room for much else," he reminded her. "And I always ask too much, I know – of both of you," he added, acknowledging Diggle. "So I just want to help."

"Oliver, you don't have to feel guilty about this," Felicity gently replied. "And not to rehash the mom-shaped elephant in the room – not that your mom is in any way or form an oversized jungle creature – but you're currently living in a hotel." She perked up. "Hey, there we go, I can just book a hotel for a while. I mean, sure, there's plenty of other ways to drain my bank account of savings. Those red leather ankle boots in the boutique down the road aren't going to buy themselves. But it's a definite idea."

"My hotel room was only temporary. I'm in the Queen penthouse now," Oliver replied. "No one had been in there for a while so it just needed to be re-furnished."

Felicity gaped at him. "Wait, you have a penthouse? How did I not know this?" She heard Diggle snort and she rolled her eyes, smiling. "Who am I kidding, of _course_ your family owns a penthouse apartment. You could probably make your own Monopoly board with the amount of real estate you guys have."

"He's pretty good at chutes and salmon ladders too," quipped Diggle.

Oliver fiddled with the corner of a napkin. "I'm being serious. There's plenty of room in there. You can stay for however long it takes to find a new place."

She sank back into the booth. "Oliver, there's already so many rumors floating around QC about…" she gestured awkwardly, "y'know, _relations_ between bosses and employees."

"Everyone knows Digg and I are just friends," he replied, lips twitching ever so slightly at her exasperation.

"We occasionally cuddle, but you do give good hug, man," added Diggle.

"Thank you."

Felicity folded her arms across her chest. "I work with comedians," she muttered. She mentally weighed up her options, glancing between Oliver and the disaster-zone of an apartment she'd looked up. "It would be nice not to have to worry about rooming with rodents or inhaling asbestos," she mused.

"Is that a yes?" asked Oliver.

Scrunching up her nose, Felicity thought of a few more concerns. "Are you sure you won't get sick of me? Because we're already in each other's faces a lot of the day. And I'm not the tidiest of people to live with. I leave mugs lying around the place like they're a breadcrumb trail to something awesome. But, surprise, it actually just leads to more dishes I haven't washed yet. And…"

"Felicity." He waited for her to finish talking and smiled. "It will be fine. I promise. Plus I like to leave towels lying on the floor so we'll call it even."

She allowed herself to slowly smile back. "Alright, yes. You've got yourself a messy houseguest. Thank you, Oliver," she added sincerely. "Um, and I kind of wasn't kidding about moving all those boxes into storage earlier either," she said, ducking her head. "I'll call Roy and Sara, we can make it a real Team Arrow bonding experience!"

"Stop."

"Sorry Oliver, I can't hear you over Team Arrow being kickass removalists."

* * *

By the time the following afternoon rolled around, Felicity was already over the thought of having to move ever again. Sara was spending time with Laurel, but poor Oliver, Diggle and Roy had helped her cart boxes and furniture downstairs, into the rental truck and then out again into the storage facility for most of the Saturday. Oliver had offered to pay for people to do it for her, but she refused, insisting he'd already done enough by taking her in and besides, she didn't have _that_ much stuff.

"Dude," said Roy, shifting the last piece of furniture into the storage space, "I know I'm pretty Hulked up right about now," he glared at Oliver, "and don't think I haven't noticed you've given me all the heavy crap." He focused back on Felicity. "But is your sofa made of lead or what?"

Felicity threw plastic sheeting over the piece, carefully covering the wooden panelling on the side. "It was my great-grandmother's so it's kind of an antique."

"Are these boxes full of old antiques too?" puffed Oliver, placing the two heavy items in the back corner.

"If by old antiques you mean every computer I've owned in the past ten years then yes." She shrugged at his curious gaze. "They're like family members to me. Sure they're useless and out-dated, but so is my Uncle Frank and we still keep him around."

Diggle brushed off his hands and stood in the entryway. "There's nothing else left in the van, I think we're finally done."

"I can't believe my whole life fits in here," said Felicity, glancing around at all of her belongings. She'd only packed one duffel bag and a medium-ish suitcase to bring to Oliver's, not wanting to appear as though she was going to overstay her welcome. "Bye for now Xbox," she said to one of the piles. "Bye comfy throw blanket with the nail polish stains." She ran her hand over another box, reading the handwriting. "Bye… Random crap? Wow, I really got lazy with the labels towards the end there."

"You know you can bring more stuff with you if you want, Felicity," said Oliver. "I don't mind. It's not like there isn't any room."

"You're on your own with the sofa," Roy muttered. "This pack mule has had enough."

Felicity shook her head, ushering them outside so she could roll the door down and lock up. "No, I'm fine, seriously. It's silly to bring too many things with me when I won't be there for that long anyway. I swear I'll be out of your hair in a week, tops." Pocketing the keys, Felicity beamed at everyone. "Thank you for ruining half your weekend for me, guys. I really appreciate it. Can I shout everyone a fancy meal? And by that I mean Big Belly Burger?"

Checking his watch, Diggle shook his head. "I promised Lyla I'd take her out tonight so I'd better get moving."

"Same," said Roy, before giving the older man an embarrassed look. "I mean not 'same' as in I'm taking your girlfriend out on a date, because that would be weird."

"People just love third wheeling us this week," Diggle said in feigned annoyance, giving Felicity a wink.

"I just meant I'm supposed to be meeting Thea for our own movie date," Roy continued. "Not that we actually watch much of the movie." He noticed Oliver raise an eyebrow and turned a slight shade of pink. "Not that Thea's older brother needed to know that… Y'know what? I'm just gonna leave before things get worse. Call me if you need me."

The three of them stifled their laughter as Roy made a hasty exit. "Good to know the Mirakuru isn't always a miracle worker," Felicity joked, making sure the door was sealed tight before they left the compound.

* * *

After dropping off the truck and handing her keys back to her former landlord, Felicity drove herself and Oliver to the penthouse, her car looking somewhat out of place near all the expensive vehicles in the parking garage.

Oliver took the suitcase out of the trunk and lifted it with ease, not bothering to use the wheels underneath, while Felicity slung the duffel bag over her shoulder and locked the car. She followed him to an entryway, which lead to the main foyer of the building. Oliver gave a nod to the doorman before making his way to the elevator with Felicity.

She watched him press a code for the penthouse suite. "Oliver?"

"Mmm?"

"Did your family use this place a lot… before the island?"

He cast his eyes down before looking at her. "Yeah, we did. How did you know?"

"You said it needed to be refurnished, like it had been empty for quiet some time." She smiled softly at him. "I guess it must have been hard for everyone with all those memories lingering around."

Oliver nodded, flexing his fingers against the handle of the suitcase. "That's why it's good to make new memories," he said, offering her a faint smile.

"Like when we eventually run out of clean mugs and glasses and we have to drink our coffee out of fashionable jars like hipsters," she teased, attempting to lighten the mood.

He smirked. "Exactly like that." The elevator dinged, signalling that they'd reached their destination. "We're here," said Oliver as the doors opened. "Welcome home."

Felicity remained rooted to the spot as Oliver stepped forward into what could only be described as pure, expansive luxury. He set down her case in the living area and shrugged off his jacket, throwing it onto the back of the plush sofa as he began to kick off his shoes. Felicity had dealt with work Oliver and Arrow Oliver but _this_ Oliver was new to her and it threw her slightly off kilter. She took a few tentative steps inside while the words _welcome home_ echoed around in her head. That small statement opened up a whole can of emotional worms she hadn't thought through. She was living with Oliver. She was going to be sleeping in the same place as him. She was going to see him first thing in the morning, most probably shirtless, with sexy bed hair and…

"Do I need to find another ball of paper to aim at your head?"

Felicity snapped out of her daze to find Oliver staring at her in bemusement. "What? No! Sorry, just slightly overwhelmed by the place. It's seriously the size of a small country up here. Actually make that a continent. Just as long as it's not Australia: I don't want my kangaroo phobia to kick in." She chuckled nervously, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "What did I space out on this time?"

"I was going to show you to the bedroom," he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "_Your_ bedroom I mean. I hope you like it."

"I'm sure I will," she quickly replied, too caught up in her own thoughts to notice his slight faux pas. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Felicity followed him down the passageway.

First thing tomorrow, the apartment hunt was _definitely_ on.


	2. Chapter 2

The very first thought Felicity had upon waking was that the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man had inhaled her. She blinked a few times before remembering where she was and dragged the white comforter off her head. Reaching across the nightstand to fetch her glasses, Felicity untangled her limbs from the sheets, which judging by how incredibly soft they felt, had a thread count of one million and were spun with actual unicorn fur.

She put her glasses on, catching sight of herself in the mirror over the dressing table. "Oh God, why?" she groaned, attempting to smooth down her hair. "How do people in the movies always look so perfect when they wake up?" She swung her legs over the side of the bed to stand and made her way into the en suite bathroom to take a shower, lest Oliver think he was rooming with an extra from The Walking Dead.

They hadn't had much of a chance to dwell on their new living situation yesterday thanks to Officer Lance calling her with a tip-off about a criminal that had been on the Arrow's radar. The majority of the evening had been spent in the foundry with the rest of the team, and by the time they got back to the penthouse after a successful takedown they were too drained to do anything except go to sleep.

Turning off the water, Felicity wrapped herself in a towel and padded back into the bedroom to rifle through her suitcase, dragging out a pair of jeans and a purple sweater. She got dressed and brushed her hair into its usual ponytail, quickly putting on some make-up just as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee hit her nose. Inhaling deeply, Felicity smiled and opened the door to make her way to the kitchen but couldn't recall which direction she had to go.

"Um, Oliver?" she called out loudly, hoping he could hear. "Don't laugh but… Marco?" She paused before hearing a faint snort of amusement.

"Polo," his voice rang out.

Smirking, Felicity headed right, admiring some of the artwork adorning the walls on her way. "Marco?" she repeated, the smell of coffee becoming stronger.

"Polo," he replied. "Do you want me to send up a flare too?"

"Save it for when I attempt to find the home theater," she retorted, walking down a small staircase which led into the living area and then finally the grandiose kitchen. Felicity smiled at Oliver who was leaning against the marble bench in his gym clothes, holding a cup out for her. "You should really give all of your guests a complimentary map," she said, gratefully accepting the hot beverage.

"Felicity, it's a double-level penthouse not the whole building."

She raised an eyebrow in bemusement. "Wow, this place must legitimately seem tiny to you, huh? Only three bathrooms, whatever will you do?" she teased.

"I'll live. Did you sleep OK?" he asked, watching as she imitated his position against the island bench in front of him.

"Mmm-hmm," she said, blowing into her mug before taking a sip. "I mean I nearly suffocated myself in all the bed covers but kind of just thought, 'Well, this is it. This blanket tomb is my home now. I hope it gets Wi-Fi'." She took another drink. "How about you?"

Oliver half-shrugged his shoulder. "I slept fine."

"I don't know how you couldn't, those beds are amazing," she enthused. "It's like sleeping on a cloud… not that you could actually do that without falling right through to your death of course. Whoever made that comparison didn't really 'science' it out, huh? Anyway," she said, halting her rambling, "too long, didn't read: the beds are comfy."

"Fit for a _queen_ even?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips.

She laughed. "He makes coffee _and_ jokes, what can't he do?"

"Sudoku," he said gravely. "My greatest adversary."

"I'll add it to the criminal database."

They smiled at one another for a beat, taking long sips of their coffees before Felicity cleared her throat. "So I was thinking I might check out some apartments open for inspection today," she said brightly, walking across the room to sit at the table. "I set up my email to get alerts on places that hopefully don't resemble a murder scene."

Oliver folded his arms, contemplating her. "Don't feel as though you have to rush anything," he stated. "Like I said before, you're welcome here for as long as you want."

"I know, but I should at least have a look today while I've got some free time," she said, smoothing a hand over a dent in the tabletop. "Is this one of the few items you salvaged from the old days?" She smiled as he nodded. "What happened?"

"Eight-year-old Speedy happened," he replied fondly. "She was racing around like she always did, chasing me with one of my parent's antique figurines, when she tripped and the statue went flying." He chuckled. "It broke of course and dad grounded her for a week, but I was happy to see it go. That thing was ugly."

"Poor Thea, but poor table as well." She jokingly slammed her fist down. "That is mahogany!" Felicity raised an eyebrow at Oliver's blank look. "Hunger Games? No, not ringing any bells?" She whistled. "Wow, we really need to put that home theater to good use. Katniss Everdeen is like your spirit animal."

He shook his head in amusement before placing his empty cup in the sink. "Give me ten minutes to shower and change and we can get going."

Felicity furrowed her brow. "Get going where?"

"To look at apartments."

"Oh! Oh no I don't expect you to come with me," she stammered, accidentally sloshing around coffee as she waved her arms. "It'll probably be really tedious and I'm sure you've got better ways to relax on a Sunday. Not that I'm even sure you know how to relax – you probably find scaling tall buildings soothing – but you know what I mean."

"Felicity it's fine," he assured her. "I just thought it might be helpful for you to have a sounding board."

"Of course it would but…" Hesitancy permeated across her features. "Aren't you worried about people seeing you scoping out places to live with your assistant? The gossip blogs will have a field day."

Oliver shrugged. "I'll wear a baseball cap and something casual." He tipped his chin up obstinately. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm pretty good at keeping my identity a secret."

* * *

"Mr Queen, what a _wonderful_ surprise to see you here," the realtor greeted with a bright smile, enthusiastically shaking Oliver's hand as he and Felicity stepped through the door of the fifth-storey apartment. "I'm Sandra and it will be my privilege to help you _any_ way I can."

Felicity bit back a laugh as Oliver grimaced. "Thank you, but I'm not actually looking today," he politely replied, unlatching his hand from her grip. "I'm just here for moral support."

"Hi, I'm Felicity Smoak," said the blonde, thrusting out her hand for the realtor to shake instead. "I'm sure it will be less of a privilege to assist me, but I almost always pay my rent on time and I don't own any pets because trust me, there was a whole catastrophe with sea monkeys in elementary school that suggests I shouldn't go down that path."

Sandra quickly shook Felicity's hand, her earlier eagerness waning visibly. "Well, that is… good to know. Ah, that's my phone I apologize," she said, as a ring tone began to play. "Excuse me, won't you?"

Holding on to the strap of her purse, Felicity turned to Oliver with a smirk. "How's that camouflage working out for ya?"

"Maybe I should have worn the mask instead," he said dryly, tugging his cap down further on his head.

"Oh yeah, I can see the headline now," she said under her breath, inspecting a corner of the room where the paint was peeling. "_Vigilante ups the ante of the rental game_ – _vows to paint every room green_."

"This place seems a bit run-down," said Oliver, as they strolled down the narrow hall and into the modest bedroom. He crossed over to the window where the fire escape resided. "And the alleged security features are a joke," he said with a frown as he played around with the latch.

"Yeah, it's not really screaming liveable to me either," agreed Felicity, taking her tablet out of her purse. "It's OK, this is only the first stop. We've still got a few more to inspect." She didn't look up as she found the next address amongst her emails. "I think it might be best if you follow my lead next time, Master of Disguise."

"… I don't even want to know."

* * *

"Great to meet you, Mike," Felicity beamed at their next realtor, holding out her hand. "My name's Felicity." She watched as Mike gave Oliver a puzzled glance. "And I see you've noticed my cousin Jean-Luc," she added briskly. "He's on vacation from France and I kind of tricked him into coming along with me." She spoke behind her hand to Mike. "He thought the Empire State Building was in Starling City. _Poor thing's a bit clueless_," she added in a stage whisper. Felicity gave Oliver's arm a quick nudge, holding back her grin. "Say hi, Jean-Luc!"

Fixing the blonde with a withering stare, Oliver exhaled slowly through his nose before giving Mike a tight smile. "Bonjour," he gritted out through his teeth.

"Hi," Mike replied, speculation still rampant on his face. He looked back at Felicity. "Has anyone ever told you your cousin is the spitting image of…"

"That guy off that vampire TV show, I know it's crazy right?" Felicity interrupted, stepping forward. "If you don't mind we might go and see what the other rooms are like." She gripped Oliver's sleeve, dragging him along with her. "We'll yell out if we need anything!"

Once they were safely in the bathroom, Oliver folded his arms as Felicity gave him a sheepish grin. "_That_ was your ingenious plan?" he deadpanned. "Something tells me he didn't quite buy it."

"Oh come on, who's going to believe that Oliver Queen is spending his weekend trolling the city as a character actor?" She turned up her nose at the mold residue on the ceiling. "It's just some harmless fun. And besides, at the next place you could be my personal bodyguard, ooh, or maybe my interior designer!" Felicity heard another deep sigh resonate from her friend.

"_Merde_."

"What?"

"Nothing."

* * *

Sara doubled over, holding up her hand for Oliver to pause their training session because she was laughing too hard. "Wait a second," she choked, taking in Felicity's delighted grin. "You actually had him do a British accent at the last place? That's Ollie's _worst_ accent."

"A fact I found out too late when he greeted the realtor with a panicked '_allo guvnor_," Felicity responded, swivelling in her computer chair to scrutinize Oliver. "Did you attend the Michael Caine school of accents for only one semester or…"

Giving up hope of getting any more work done, Oliver put his bamboo stick back in its cabinet. "I think I might hit the showers," he muttered, ignoring the chuckling in his wake.

"Wow, that was a better ab workout than doing crunches," said Sara, putting her own stick away before sitting down on Felicity's desk with her water bottle.

"I probably shouldn't tease him so much," Felicity admitted, tapping a few search items on her keyboard. "He played along really well for someone whose default setting is usually 'intense stoicism'. Though I may have broken his brain with all my antics."

Sara shrugged, taking a swig of her water. "I don't know, I think it's nice he gets to act like a goofball every now and then. You bring out his fun side. God knows there wasn't much of that happening on the island." Her voice trailed off and her smile faded, just as Oliver's tended to on the rare occasions he spoke about the past. "Anyway," she said, shaking out her thoughts, "were any of the apartments OK?"

"One of them smelt like it was doused in cat pee, and that was probably one of the better places, so no," said Felicity with a wry smile. "The hunt is still on."

"What are we hunting now? Feral cats?" Roy's voice called out, as he made his way down the stairs of the foundry with Diggle. "I didn't sign up for animal control."

"Didn't Oliver tell you?" said Diggle, handing Felicity and Sara their takeaway burgers and fries he and Roy had collected on the way over. "Cat wrangling was the next step in your training after slapping water."

Roy frowned. "I know you think you're joking but the dude's teaching methods are so warped that it could be true."

"Patience, grasshopper," said Felicity, giving the boy's arm a gentle squeeze, "you need to trust that Oliver knows what he's doing."

"Yeah easy for you to say when you have the big guy showing you proper moves," he retorted, nodding towards Diggle. "Maybe we should swap Mr Miyagis for a while, see how much you enjoy playing pat-a-cake with a bowl of water?"

Felicity folded her arms and smiled. "Challenge accepted."

The four of them eagerly tucked into their meals as Felicity filled in the boys on the highlights of her busy day. Oliver joined them five minutes later, rolling his eyes at Digg when he apologized to 'Jean-Luc' for not having any croissants.

"Any new potential cases on the system?" asked Oliver, stealing some fries from Felicity's pile before pulling up a chair to sit with the group.

"The food thief, for one," Felicity retorted, eyeing him over her glasses. "There's also a few snippets about a woman the press have dubbed 'Poison Ivy' because of the way she deals with her victims, but she seems to be sticking to Gotham City for now."

Oliver nodded, digging through a brown paper bag for his burger. "We'll keep an eye on her anyway."

The central screen pinged, notifying Felicity of one of her Google alerts she'd set up. She clicked on the email, eyes widening at what she saw. "Oh no, no, no," she mumbled, setting down her cheeseburger. "This isn't good."

"What isn't good?" said Oliver, rolling his seat in beside her as the rest of the team also gathered to take a look. He raised an eyebrow as Felicity clicked on a link that led them to a gossip website filled with paparazzi photos of their day out.

"_Royal rendezvous_," Roy read aloud, "_Oliver Queen sets up his castle with mystery blonde_."

"Hold up, _mystery_ blonde?" huffed Felicity, suddenly indignant. "I attend every corporate meeting and event that Oliver does and I don't warrant a name in their terrible headline? May as well just label me The Invisible Girl and be done with it." She took a breath, reining in her outcry. "Not that I particularly _want_ to be splashed all over the internet of course but it's the principle of the matter."

Sara shrugged. "As far as tabloid photos go they're not really that scandalous," she offered. "All you're doing is walking side-by-side out of a few apartments."

"It could be worse," agreed Diggle. "At least you're both clothed."

"Why wouldn't we be…?" Oliver started, before shaking his head and turning to Felicity. "I'm sorry you had to be dragged into this," he said ruefully. "I thought that interest in me might have finally died down but one of the realtors must have tipped them off. I don't think Oliver Queen will ever lead a normal life."

"Does he realize he refers to himself in the third person a _lot_?" Roy said under his breath to Diggle.

"Preaching to the choir, man," Diggle muttered.

Felicity clasped her hand onto Oliver's arm. "Hey, you don't have to be sorry. I mean yeah, it's not the greatest of things to ever happen to me, but I'm more annoyed on your behalf than anything else." She gave him a reassuring smile. "I can work my magic and get rid of most of paparazzi photo trail for now, but unfortunately there's bound to be more out there. Those people are like vultures." Felicity's fingers flew across the keyboard. "We'll just have to make sure we're extra vigilant when we go to and from the penthouse."

"It should be OK tonight," said Oliver, standing up. "I'm going to stay out late and do some patrolling of The Glades so I'll be home late."

"I'll come with you," said Sara, scrunching up her rubbish and aiming it for the trash.

Oliver approached the glass case that held his costume and took out his bow. "Are you tagging along as well, Roy? It's probably best we work on some more training techniques."

"Yeah, about that," said Roy, leaping up to join them. "Mystery blonde and I had an idea we wanted to run by you…"

* * *

Felicity's second morning in the penthouse was much like her first. She woke up slightly disorientated by her surroundings, caught an eyeful of the haystack her hair had become overnight, and got showered and dressed before deeming herself fit to greet other humans. She did miss the luxury of slopping around in the morning in her pajamas, occasionally blasting terrible pop music to get her motivated, but Oliver didn't really need to witness that. _Especially_ her lame pajamas, which she'd only brought one pair of in her haste to pack.

She strolled down the hall; her tablet tucked under one arm, resisting the urge for a celebratory fist pump at remembering the correct way. Entering the kitchen, Felicity noticed a body leaning into the open fridge door. "Oliver, please tell me you've got a box of Lucky Charms stashed away here somewhere? Long story, but the bedding keeps giving me marshmallow vibes and I'm having a serious craving for…" Her voice cut out when a stranger's head popped up to look at her. Gaping at the tall sandy-haired man, Felicity reared her tablet back into a throwing stance. "OLIVER!" she yelled, quickly backing away towards to the door. Closing the fridge, the man went to approach her but Felicity held out a finger in warning. "You stay right there! Don't move!"

"I'm not here to hurt you, miss," said the man, holding his hands up in a placating manner.

"Yeah, I'll bet that's what every intruder says before they get all stabby," she accused, hearing feet thundering down the staircase in the other room.

Oliver rushed into the kitchen, still wet from his shower, gripping a towel around his waist. "Felicity? What's going on?" he said, eyes flashing wildly. Observing the scene before him, Oliver soon allowed his stress to alleviate. "I see you've met one of my family's personal chefs then?"

"Personal chef?" Felicity mumbled, eyeing the man before her who pointed to the white chef's hat logo on his black shirt she'd somehow glossed over.

"I don't exactly have time to make meals during the week so Benny stocks up the refrigerator for me every Monday," Oliver explained with a wry smile. "In hindsight I _probably_ should have mentioned that."

Felicity slowly lowered her computer. "Oh…" She acknowledged Benny. "Sorry for the whole 'accusing you of being a serial killer' thing," she winced. "In my defence I haven't had my bucket of coffee yet so…"

"It's alright, miss," Benny replied with a smile. "No harm done." He wheeled out an empty food trolley that had been hidden behind the island bench top. "I'm finished here anyway, Mr Queen, so I'll see myself out."

Oliver nodded at him as he exited the room. "Thank you, Benny." He threw a worried glance his roommate's way. "Felicity are you sure that everything's OK? You're not usually that… jumpy."

"I'm fine," she stammered, snapping her eyes up when she realized her gaze was directed at his bare chest. "Sorry, I'm not staring. I mean I _was_ staring, but I wasn't _staring_ staring," she clarified, stepping in closer to inspect his skin. "How on earth did you get that giant bruise?" Felicity lightly grazed her fingers across the left side of his ribs.

His body tensed at her touch. "It's nothing," he said, holding the towel a bit more firmly. "I just forgot how gung-ho Roy could be."

"You're getting way too many injuries lately," she scolded him, dropping her hand back to her side. "You need to be more careful."

"I'm always careful."

"It's kind of hard to take you seriously when you're standing here like you're about to enter a steam room." Felicity licked her lips. "Before you scurry away and get dressed, though, I need to ask one important question." Oliver raised an eyebrow as she broke into a smile. "Do you have any leprechaun-themed cereal at your disposal?"

Oliver smirked at her. "Let me have a look."

* * *

Keeping one eye on the kitchen, Benny took a miniature black audio device out of his pocket and attached it underneath a portrait in the entryway. It was one of six he'd managed to plant around the place before he'd been interrupted. Wheeling his trolley into the elevator, Benny waited for the doors to shut before he pulled out his cell and composed a quick text message.

_Bugs are in. Let me know my next move_.


End file.
